The Tinder Box
by shewritesandstuff
Summary: Katniss Everdeen may have been the spark of the rebellion, but the events prior to the 72nd Hunger Games provided the fuel for her fire. This is the story the Capitol refuses to speak of: the story of two tributes who ran away from their fates. Please enjoy and review! DISCLAIMER: The Hunger Games and anything that you recognize belongs to Suzanne Collins!
1. Chapter 1: The Reaping

The first thing I feel in the morning is my mother shaking my leg. "Alden!" she says. I swat at the direction of her voice and groan. "Alden Fernandez, get out of bed now. There's cows to milk and feed. And I hope you didn't forget it's Reaping Day."

Reaping Day. I'm not worried about it. Sure, maybe I was when I was twelve, but I'm sixteen now. My brother didn't get picked, and I know I'm not going to be either.

I roll out of bed and set my feet on the dusty wood of our small house. Everything in District 10 is large; the cattle, the amount of land; but not the houses. I guess we're on the poorer end of the spectrum, but really, who isn't? We're just lucky enough to have our own cows that don't belong to the Capitol.

I pull on a pair of faded jeans, a plain t-shirt, and my work boots. Breakfast can come later, after the sun's up. My father and brother, Diego, must already be out in the barn, because it's just my mother and I in the house. I give her a quick kiss on the cheek as I always do, and head out into the dim dawn light.

Sure enough, Diego is filling food troughs for the cows. "Well! He returns from the dead!" Diego says dramatically.

"Oh shut up," I say, giving him a good push. He turns to me and grins.

"You want to play it like that, baby brother? Bring it on!" We wrestle, laughing loudly as we fall to the straw covered floor, trying to get an advantage. Our father eventually breaks us up, telling us to get to work.

Diego is always like this, wanting to have fun. I wish today was a day that we could truly have fun though. It doesn't matter how confident I am, the Reaping is the Reaping, and I could still be forced to compete in the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games. The last word in torture and suffering. Sure, it isn't easy to live in the districts of Panem, especially District 10, which some people tend to forget about, but the Hunger Games takes the cake.

Seventy two years ago, a rebellion by the districts was squashed by the Capitol. To punish the districts, every summer, two tributes, a boy and a girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen are selected randomly from each district during the Reaping to be sent to the Capitol to compete in the Hunger Games, a televised fight to the death until a single victor remains. The people in the Capitol see it as the world's greatest form of entertainment, but to us, in the poor, starving districts, it's the closest thing we can have to hell on earth.

Thinking about the Games and the Reaping sobers me up to the point that I milk the cows silently. Diego's safe from the Reaping because he's twenty, but I'm not. Still, I'm not that worried. We aren't starving in our house, so I only have five entries in the bowls today due to my age, but some aren't that lucky.

I finish well into the morning, and I head back over to our little house. We live out of the city since we don't have a cattle processing job, and it's nice and quiet, what with the birds singing out in the meadows. My mother is standing on the porch with her arms crossed. She points to the metal washtub set up behind the house. I probably smell like a cow, and definitely their...messes, and she won't let me inside until I'm clean.

I kick off my boots and drop my shirt and jeans onto the ground in a heap. Time to scrub. My deeply tanned skin glints in the sunlight as it progressively gets cleaner. I wash my dark hair too, for good measure. My mother says that before Panem was created, my father's side of the family, the side I take after, would have been referred to as Hispanic. I don't know what that means, but I guess it's my brownish skin and dark hair and eyes. She doesn't look anything like us, with pale skin and dishwater blond hair.

I towel off and reach for my Reaping clothes, the nicest things I own. A pair of black pants, a blue shirt, and dress shoes. I would prefer jeans, boots, and a hat, but I have to look "presentable." I have enough time to eat a filling lunch before my father comes in, telling us to get ready to go. The Reaping is at one here, and it will take about half an hour to get to town, and we should be there an hour early.

Luckily, we get to take the government pick up truck into town. It's a very special treat to ride in it, so I don't complain, even though it's hot and smells like cow manure. My father turns to me as he drives down the almost non-existent road.

"You nervous, son?" he asks me. I shake my head and glance out the window.

"No. Not really. I'm not going to get picked. Diego never got picked, so I'm not going to be." I say. He smiles at me.

"Good. Now, I think we'll be over by the Hoff's store afterward, so come over and find us there, okay?" He says. I nod. It's a nice day, the grasses blowing in the breeze, puffy white clouds in the perfectly blue sky. I will be able to enjoy it in about two hours or so.

When we pull into town, I get let out by the eligible tributes sign-in table so my parents and brother can park the truck and find somewhere to stand. I sign my name and let the Peacekeepers prick my finger before I head back to the roped off area for sixteens.

It's still relatively quiet here. The dilapidated square has been cleaned up enough to be on television, and there are already cameras all around to broadcast our Reaping to the rest of Panem. I glance up at the clock above the Justice Building as more people begin filing into the square. District 10, no matter how big in land it is, has more animals than people, so it doesn't take long for 12,000 to get situated. At least we aren't as run down as District 12; their square can't even hold everybody.

I spot my friend Ezra Mennic not too far ahead of me. I make eye contact and he makes his way back through the crowd to me. We exchange a glance, but nothing more. Talking is against the rules. We don't need to be shot today. Rules are always strict, but we have to look good for the Capitol today.

It's almost to the point of claustrophobic in the square as the hands on the clock near the one o'clock mark. Sweat is forming at my hairline, and I brush it away. I'm still not scared.

Finally, the clock strikes one and our mayor, Glenna Randell comes through the doors onto the wooden stage that holds the glass balls containing the names of the possible tributes. She's an older woman, maybe around sixty. She's followed by our four past winners of the Games, and they all sit down in their chairs.

Finally, our Capitol escort comes out, and as usual, he's just another freak. Purple hair, a pink makeup palette, and clothes that aren't like anything I've ever seen. He sits down next to the victors so Mayor Randell can give her various speeches.

The sun is blistering as she reads the story of Panem, the boring Treaty of Treason, and the name of Bennett Ward, Alameda Fell, Honey Smart, and Phineas Rivera. I believe that Bennett and Alameda, the most recent victors, are mentoring this year.

"And now for the Reaping," she says, heading back to her seat. This is it. The Capitol escort comes bouncing up to the microphone, almost sickening with happiness.

"Hello, hello! My name is Ostro Aldjoy! Happy, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" I glance over at Ezra and roll my eyes. Stupid Capitol accent. Stupid Capitol person. They think the Hunger Games are just pure entertainment. They don't have to worry about their children dying.

"I am so, so excited for today's Reaping! Now, how does ladies first sound?" Ostro gushes. What's with the word repetition? We heard you the first time.

He floats over to the ball with the girl names in it and digs around for a while with that stupid look on his face before he finally draws out a slip of paper and goes back to the microphone. I'm not worried about any girls today.

"Tiana Rankine!" he trills. I don't know who Tiana is, but my heart sinks when she walks up to the front from the back of the group. She must be twelve. Tiny, in a white lace dress, with her dark hair in two braids and a single tear rolling down her night black face. Poor thing.

She mounts the stage and stands with her fists clenched by her sides, not looking at anyone. She's trying to be brave, of course, but she won't make it past day one.

"Any volunteers?" Ostro calls. The square is silent. As always.

"Well then! It seems like it's time to select our _boy_ tribute!" I'm suddenly nervous, but I don't let it show. I hope for my safety, for Ezra's safety.

Ostro unfolds the slip of paper.

"Alden Fernandez!"

I find it to be an appropriate time to swear under my breath.


	2. Chapter 2: Goodbyes

I go numb for a second. I was so sure I was safe, not going to get picked. Ezra is staring at me, like most of the kids around me. I take a deep breath and swallow before walking into the open. I hear crying somewhere in the otherwise silent square. It must be my mother. I keep my eyes locked forward as I mount the stage and stand next to Tiana, blood rushing in my ears.

"Volunteers?" Ostro asks the crowd. I don't expect any. Friendship only goes so far on Reaping day. None of my friends are stupid enough to volunteer.

The square is silent. Mayor Randell comes to stand behind us. "Tributes, please shake hands," she says solemnly. I give Tiana's hand a reassuring squeeze and try to give her some kind of hope in my eyes.

As the anthem of Panem begins to play, I look out over the meadows past the town where cows graze. I am going into the arena. Most likely, I will die.

Mayor Randell ushers us into the Justice Building, and a shiver runs down my spine as the huge wooden doors close. Somebody leads me into a room, and I sit down on the sofa. It's time for visitors to come, to give their final goodbyes. The room is nice, with all kinds of decorations and thick carpets and furniture. I pour myself a glass of water from a pitcher on a table and stare out the window.

Everything I've ever hoped for or dreamed of is gone. Sure, maybe I'm strong, but that doesn't mean much compared to the beasts that come out of places like District 2. I'm just a poor rancher. I'm going to die soon.

Finally, a Peacekeeper opens the door and I have enough time to set the glass down before my mother is in my arms, crying softly. My brother sits down on the sofa, his head in his hands. My father stands with his arms crossed, unmoving by the door.

"Alden," she whispers. "Alden..." I hold her tightly.

"Mom. It's okay," I say. I'm not, but she needs to feel better. I take her over next to Diego and we sit down.

"Honey. I-I never thought this would happen. Not in a million years," she says. I stroke her hair.

"Mom, please don't worry about me. I'm going to come home, I will," I say. Diego looks up at me.

"Little brother," he says. We both stand up and hug each other tightly. Diego was always my idol and rock.

"Listen to me. Learning a weapon is fine, and I encourage it, but learn the survival techniques. How to find water, find food, make shelter, stay warm or cool. Don't do anything stupid. Don't make an alliance unless you really need to and you completely trust them, okay?" he says quickly and quietly.

"I will. I will." Tears threaten to stream down my face, but I don't let them. I let go of him. Our time here is limited.

I go over and look my father in the eye. He is stony, obviously infuriated and surely sad. He reaches down to his belt and takes it off. He hands me the buckle, which carries the symbol of our ranch: a cross between the Capitol seal and the District 10 seal and our last name.

"I want this to be your District token," he says. I take it from him and slip it into my pocket.

"Thanks, Dad. I...I love you," I say quietly. He takes me into his arms as the door bangs open and our time is up. My mother shrieks and wraps herself around me.

"I love you, Mom. I love you, Diego. I love you, Dad. I'll be home in a month, I promise," I say, peeling her off of me. The Peacekeeper has to force her out the door, and when it shuts, I'm in silence again.

I let some tears fall, but I brush them away. I have to be as brave as possible.

Ezra bangs into the room, his face full of anger and worry. "Dammit, Alden! You were Reaped! I can't believe it!" he shouts, beginning to pace, the way he does whenever he's frustrated.

"Ezra, don't freak yourself out about it. I'll be...fine." I say, but I can tell I'm not very convincing. He stops pacing and stares at me.

"You have to come out. I won't let you die in that arena. You aren't allowed, okay?" he says urgently. I go over to him.

"I'll try. But you know how it is. Those kids from the richer districts always win. They're healthier and they have more sponsors."

"Alden. Listen to me. You're strong, you can use a rope, you can wrestle. Just promise me, even if you don't come back, that you won't give up, okay?" he says. I swallow. I can't give up.

"I promise." Just then, a Peacekeeper opens the door.

"Time." he says. I give Ezra a tight hug.

"See you later, buddy," he says. I smile for the first time since the Reaping.

I don't expect to have any more visitors today. I don't have a girlfriend, no more family, and Ezra is the only friend who would care if I died.

I'm surprised when a very old woman toddles into the room. She has weathered dark skin, black hair in a braid, and a toothless grin. I don't know her.

"Sorry. Do you have the wrong room?" I ask her politely. She comes over to me and takes my hand and has me sit on the couch with her.

"You're Alden Fernandez, right?" she says in a heavily accented voice. I guess we all have a twang, but hers is very prominent.

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm Ella Rankine. Tiana is my granddaughter."

"Oh."

"I want you to make me two promises today, Alden." I stare at her.

"First, you have to make sure she's okay when she's up in that fancy Capitol," she says.

"Alright. I can do that."

"Second, don't kill my little girl. If you do and you make it home, you'll be dead." She doesn't want me to kill Tiana. I couldn't bring myself to do that anyways.

"I promise, ma'am." She leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

"Good luck, son," she says, standing up and walking out the door.

I remain seated on the comfortable couch. I'm still speechless from Ella's visit. I have to keep my promise to her. However, once we're in the arena, Tiana's safety is out of my hands. I'm not going to kill her though.

A Peacekeeper comes into the room where I'm sitting and escorts me out to a fancy car that will take Tiana and I across town to the train station. It's much better than the work truck, but Ostro keeps babbling about all kinds of things, so I tune out, looking around at my district for what could be the last time.

The train station is packed when we arrive with photographers and Peacekeepers and average citizens. We let them take our picture for several minutes before we are led onto the train.

The sound of the doors sliding shut behind me reminds me of a prison cell door closing.


	3. Chapter 3: The Train

_**Thank you so much for reading this! It may seem a bit slow at first, but I promise the main plot will get started after just a few more short chapters. And please- make sure you leave a review for me! :)))**_

I can't say that I'm not impressed by the train. It moves at a remarkable speed, and we should be at the Capitol in the early morning at this rate. It's just as nice as the room I was just in, and there are tables laden with food for us to eat. I can't help but stare at all of this luxury that only some have and most don't.

"Make yourselves comfortable! I'll give you some time to get to know your mentors! Dinner will be in two hours, okay?" Ostro says happily, heading over to the door leading to another car. I decide to walk over to the sitting area, where Bennett Ward sits in a chair, swishing some kind of drink in a glass and staring blankly out the windows. Alameda sits next to him, looking at her lap. I sit down in a chair facing them while Tiana begins to fill a small plate with food. The girl looks like she needs it.

"Hello, Alden. I'm Alameda Fell, and I'm going to be your mentor in the Games," she says. Alameda must be in her twenties, with long black hair piled on top of her head, sharp green eyes, and deeply tanned skin.

"Hello." That's all I can think of saying.

"Alden, do you have any talents that might impress me?" I think hard about this.

"Well, I've handled cows for years. Not like that's very impressive, but I guess I'm strong," I finally say.

She shrugs his shoulders. "Could be good in the arena. You're going to need to learn a weapon, though." I don't say anything.

Tiana sits down at the small table on the other side of the room and eats her food in silence. Bennett asks her the same questions, but she obviously doesn't have any considerable talents. That's what's not fair about all of this. Little girls like her thrown in with killer giants from other districts. It's enough to make me sick.

Bennett and Alameda don't talk much after that, so I decide to settle in and process everything that has happened in the past two hours. I was Reaped for the Seventy-second Hunger Games. I probably saw my parents and brother for the last time. I am on a train to the Capitol, a place I never thought I would visit. It doesn't feel like a sick dream; it's all real to me. And I hate it.

After about half an hour, Ostro comes in with some attendants. "Do you want to see your rooms?" he squeals. I kid you not. I have no idea how a man can squeal, so don't ask.

Tiana and I follow him a few cars over to our private rooms with a bedroom, closet, and bathroom. "Make sure you clean up before dinner, okay?" he says cheerily to me in his stupid Capitol accent.

Once he's gone, I roll my eyes and head into the bathroom. The shower is a beast in itself. Hundreds of buttons and nozzles and things I don't have a name for. The damn thing can't decide on a foam scent or water temperature, and I embarrassingly go out into the hall to look for somebody to show me how to use the stupid thing.

There's a young woman in a uniform at the end of the hallway. "Excuse me?" I say.

"Yes, sir?"

"This sounds kinda stupid, but can you show me how to use the shower?" I mutter.

She laughs lightly. "Certainly. This must be much different than what you are used to."

We don't say anything else, but she sets up a steaming shower with some lemony foam spraying everywhere. I thank her and get in once I'm alone. It's wonderful, the hot water pounding on my back. Rejuvenating, I guess.

Afterward, I walk over to the closet. There's anything I could ever want to wear, but I settle on a pair of dark wash jeans and a green plaid flannel shirt with a pair of nice leather boots. Something to remind me of home. I remember my father's belt buckle and I find a brown belt to attach it to and put it on. Perfect.

I go over and sit down on the soft bed on the other side of the room. If I wasn't preparing for a death match, maybe I could enjoy all of this. Get used to it.

I promised my mother I would win and come home. Maybe, if all of the odds are in my favor, I will. Move into a home in the Victor's Village, the special part of town where the winners of the Games live. Have showers like these every day. Enough food for the entire district in our house. And of course, buckets of money. However, I don't want any of that. I just want to live.

After a while, Ostro knocks loudly on my door. "Time for dinner!" he calls. I roll my eyes and stand up, following him to the dining room. How many rooms does this train have?

I take a seat at a mahogany table and fill my plate with food. All kinds of food. Too much food. Then again, these people are used to it. I'm silent as I eat. I don't particularly like to talk.

After about three plates, I'm about to be sick, so I pour some tea and sit back in my chair. Tiana is still shoveling down food. She's probably part of the poorest class in the District, the meat packers, so she needs as much as possible. Bennett is picking at his food, and Alameda chats with Ostro over a brightly colored drink. Ostro is constantly talking about the Capitol, and I don't really care to listen. I'll only be there for a few days. Tomorrow, which is the Tribute Parade. Three days of training. The interviews day. Five days until my possible death. I don't really want to think about it.

I force myself to put down a small slice of chocolate cake. If I do survive, I'll need the calories. Finally, Bennett pours us all a glass of tart red wine and we retreat to the sitting room to watch the recap of the Reapings, to get a taste of who our competition is.

District One's seem like airheads, but tough airheads. Both from District 2 volunteered, and the girl seems larger than the boy, if that's even possible. Districts 3, 4, 5, and 6 aren't anything special from what I can tell, although the girl from 4 is especially pretty and the boy from 3 has an intelligent glint in his eyes. From District 7, there is a girl with a wicked stare that bores holes in your soul and a boy with huge arms, probably from chopping down trees and they both look deadly. Districts 8 and 9 are forgettable as usual.

Then there's our Reaping. It's quiet in District 10, but the commentators talk about how strong I am and how much potential I might have with that. Alameda shoots me a glance.

District 11's tributes are impressive, but nothing on Two's. Finally, there's District 12, two skinny kids who look alike. Probably dead on the first day.

After the screen goes black and my wine glass is empty, I yawn. "I'm going to bed," I say to nobody in particular.

"Good night," Bennett, Alameda, Ostro, and Tiana say at the same time. I walk to my bedroom and lock the door.

I pull off my shirt and jeans and throw them onto a chair by the window and change into clean boxer shorts, which is what I usually wear to bed.

Once I'm under the blankets, I stare out the window. The full moon shines brightly over a district that I don't know, but it reminds me of home. I pull the blankets up to my chin and dream that I'm a baby at home, held safe in my mother's arms.


	4. Chapter 4: Welcome to the Capitol

_**Bear with me til we get to the good part...as always, thanks for reading, and I would LOVE if you could leave reviews!**_

The next morning, Alameda comes into my room to wake me up. The sun is just peeking over some mountains in the distance, and I know that we must be almost to the Capitol. Many tributes arrived there yesterday, but most will come today.

"Alden, we're about an hour from the Capitol. Get dressed and come to eat, okay?" she says. She has dark circles under his eyes, like she didn't sleep, and she probably didn't. I yawn and stand up. I get up earlier than this sometimes, so I'm not that tired.

I take a quick shower and find another pair of jeans and a slate colored v-neck t-shirt and put on the same boots from yesterday. Today I will be given a makeover in the Remake Center, so I meet Capitol standards.

In the dining room, Bennett is sipping orange juice, Alameda is peeling a banana, and Ostro is gulping down coffee, looking somewhat depressed. It's probably really early for him.

I take a seat next to Tiana and fill my plate with flapjacks, as my mother calls them on the rare occasion that she makes them. For everything being Capitol food, some of it is familiar. That gives me some sense of security.

"So. Today you two will be remade. Listen to your prep team and stylists, and don't complain or resist," Bennett says quietly. Ostro looks up pitifully, and it takes everything I have not to laugh. I glance over at Tiana and she gives me a little grin.

"Alright. Anything else I need to know?" I ask nobody in particular. Bennett is staring off into space, pale and stony.

"Bennett?" Tiana asks him gently. Alameda sighs.

"He must be having a flashback. He has them a lot, I've noticed. Do you two even know anything about him?" she says quietly. I shake my head.

"No. He's pretty private." Alameda looks at me, taking a bite of banana.

"Look. I've known him for ten years now. When he was in the Games at eighteen, the girl he went in with was his fiancee; they were going to get married until they both were Reaped. She was brutally killed, and he was tied to a tree and forced to watch. He eventually got away, and got his revenge," Alameda says quietly. .

"Sometimes he just goes into this little world of his where he has to watch her die again and again. Just leave him be. He'll be back soon."

I sit there, watching Bennett. It all makes sense now, why he's quiet and empty. Finally, he blinks and looks at us. "Where were we?" he asks, running a hand through his blond hair. I don't say anything, but eat quickly. I'm not sure if I want to make it out of the arena anymore. I can't imagine being Bennett. I've heard that Phineas and Honey are also a little lost mentally because of the Games.

Suddenly, Ostro jumps up from his chair. "We're here! We're here!" he cries. The moment of seriousness is over. I stand up and go over to the window with Tiana.

There it is. The Capitol. Exactly how I imagined it. We get into the city, and as we slow, people in crazy colors and fashions begin jumping up and down, waving at us. Tiana gives them a little wave, but I turn away and take a drink of milk. I don't want to be friendly to these people. They are anticipating my death. Excited for it.

Finally, the train stops, and the lack of speed makes me unbalanced. Weird. I thought I would be falling over on the train, not on still ground.

Ostro takes over his role as escort as Bennett and Alameda follow us to the door. Our pictures are taken at least a million times as we walk down the concrete path to the Remake Center. A group of Capitol people smile at us, and welcome us inside. I may not know myself in a few hours.

Eight hours later, I'm wearing a thin robe and sitting on the metal table where I wait for my stylist to come. Hours of skin exfoliation, dirt removal, haircuts, shaves, nail treatments, everything to get me to clean and flawless in the Capitol's eyes. My prep team has just left, and I'm thankful. They're nice enough, but they aren't particularly smart or make much conversation with me.

Finally, a tall woman walks into the room, smiling gently. She has dark blue hair in ringlets, minimal makeup, and wears extreme heels. In other words, Capitol, but not very Capitol.

"Hello. You must be Alden. My name is Svetlana. I'm your stylist." I shake her hand. Her accent isn't very prominent.

"Hello," I say.

"What a lovely accent," she remarks kindly. I have an accent? And they don't? I don't respond.

"Would you mind if I asked you to take off your robe?" she asks. I almost blush, but I don't. I've been naked all day. I stand up and toss it onto the table. I feel her eyes on me, but I can tell that she's measuring and coming up with ideas while she's doing it.

"Alright, you can put that back on. The tribute parade will be in about three hours, and as you know, your costume will represent your district." I nod. "I'll be back soon with yours, okay?"

She leads me over to a door that enters a sitting room. "Sit down, and say anything that you want to eat, and they'll deliver it."

I sit down, and she smiles slightly at me. "I'll see you later, Alden."

Once she's gone, I lay down and order a steak. Steak is good. A home dish. From the center of the table rises a plate sized steak and some potato dish. I fill a glass with water and eat the whole thing plus a slice of chocolate pie. I haven't eaten since breakfast.

I stare out the huge glass windows over the city: majestic, clean, grand. I don't know if it can be truly called beautiful, since it isn't exactly perfect. "Mom, you would love it here," I mutter. She would. She hates being a rancher's wife, even though she loves my father. She just hates her job, and being out in the country. She was a butcher's daughter and lived in town when she was a girl, but met my father one day when he came by to have some meat cut up. They married once they were both too old for the Reaping, and had my brother not long after. I was born four years later.

I was a quiet child, a behaved child. I went to the country school, the one that the rancher's kids went to because we lived too far from the town school, and I made good grades in the classes I took. I overheard my father say it was all a bunch of "propaganda bullshit." I kept that to myself. We would all be killed if a Peacekeeper heard him say that.

I've never had a girlfriend, never been interested in anybody from school. Sure, there were some pretty girls, but they went out behind the barns with the tough boys, not Alden Fernandez. I probably wasn't going to get married unless I moved to town, which I probably was never going to do.

But none of that matters anymore. I'm going to die in a few days, most likely.

I guess it's been a few hours of peaceful thinking because Svetlana has come back into my room carrying a bag. The city is already beginning to light up with anticipation for us tributes. "Alden, it's time to get dressed. They'll want you in the chariots soon," she says.

I stand up and follow her back into the remake room. She unzips the bag and pulls out three things: leather boots, a suede farm hat, and a pair of dark wash jeans. She puts my belt from earlier on the pile of clothes and points to it all.

"Get dressed."


	5. Chapter 5: Chariots

_**Chapter 7 will be when the action really starts, so keep on reading! As always, I'd love to hear from you about this story! Enjoy!**_

"Okay. This is the first time the people of the Capitol will get a good look at you, so smile and wave and have fun. They'll love it," Alameda says quickly. I'm standing in a chariot next to Tiana, who isn't in a skimpy outfit, and I look like a very sexy cowboy. My prep team had been going on and on about my sculpted abs, so Svetlana decided to show them off. I catch the girl from District 6 looking at me from her chariot, but she quickly looks back over at her mentors and stylist.

I look to Alameda, and she gives us a reassuring smile. "You guys will be great." Tiana smiles at her, and I can hear the doors of the Remake Center swing open. I take a deep breath as our chariot slowly moves forward, out into the loud and bright street.

At first I'm blinded and deafened by all of the light and sound, but everything comes into focus. It's amazing, really, how excited these people are about our deaths, but I do what Alameda told me: smile and wave. I glance over at Tiana, where she's laughing and the crowd loves it.

We roll past a group of girls and they scream and point at my stomach. "Alden! Alden!" they cry. I look over at them and tip my hat, making them scream louder. I turn back to the front and continue waving and grinning. These people crack me up, and I play along with them, like Alameda told me to.

We eventually pull into the City Circle, where President Snow is standing at a podium, smiling oddly at all of us. He launches into his speech, praising us for our bravery in participating in the Seventy-second Hunger Games. I tune him out and look around at the Tributes around me. That scary girl from 7 is staring at me, scaring the crap out of me, and I catch a few of the other female tributes sneaking glances at me. Svetlana has turned me into something desirable, and it might be enough to get decent sponsors.

The anthem then plays and we circle the City Circle one last time before pulling into the Training Center, where we will be staying for the next few days. Alameda,Bennett, and Ostro are standing in the entrance room, smiling. I step off of our chariot and help Tiana down, walking over to our mentors.

"Excellent, you guys! The crowd loved you!" Ostro says happily. I smile and look down. I'm not one who likes to be the center of attention. I never have, really. Now everybody in the country knows my name.

Ostro ushers us inside the lobby, where there's a giant fountain and a glass elevator that the five of us step into and speed like a bullet up to the tenth floor, stopping at levels 3 and 8 to let off a few tributes. We say nothing to each other, and it doesn't surprise me. None of us are here to make friends, because if we really want to go home, then those friends will have to die. No use being attached to something you can't keep.

When we reach our floor, Ostro shows us around. "Alden, this will be your room," he says cheerfully.

"Thanks," I mumble, closing the door. It's a nice room, with a window showing a great view of the Capitol, still very much alive at night. I toss my hat onto a chair in the corner and fall down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I've had enough excitement to last me a while, it seems.

I decide to take a shower, and under the hot water and soapy scented bubbles, I can finally think. I'm a popular tribute with the crowd, so there will be plenty of girls lined up to buy me food in the arena. Tomorrow will be the first day of training, and I'll be able to size up the rest of the tributes in preparation for the Games.

Once I get out of the shower and into my boxers, I order a bowl of soup. I could eat with the others, but I'm honestly exhausted. It's been one hell of a day.

Sitting under the plush bedspread, I eat my supper and watch the lights below and listen to the faint music. These people must never sleep, even when it isn't the Hunger Games. There's always a reason to celebrate here, unlike at home where we have a party maybe once every few months. I guess it must be nice to live here, but I don't think I would ever want to. There's just something about home that I love; be it the open spaces or the quiet or the warm weather or whatever, but I want nothing more than to go back there.

When I finish my food, I turn off my bedside lamp and pull the blankets over my head.

Suddenly, I remember something. One of my promises to Ella Rankine. To make sure that Tiana's okay during her stay in the Capitol.

I stand up and pull on a t-shirt. Out in the hall, it's quiet and I walk slowly to Tiana's room and knock gently on the door.

"Come in," she calls. I open the door and stick my head in. She's sitting in her bed in the dark, staring out the window.

"Tiana?" She turns to look at me.

"Oh, Alden." She smiles faintly. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head. "I just wanted to check on you. Your grandmother told me to keep an eye on you while we're here."

She sits up and wraps her small arms around her knees and watches me. "Will you come and sit with me for a few minutes?" she whispers, barely audible. My face softens as I sit down on the edge of her bed as she watches me.

"What's wrong?" I ask her tenderly. Her face is tear stained.

"I just don't like here. I mean, the people are nice and all, but I just want to go home. And don't deny it-I'm not going to," she says quietly. I breathe out and move closer to her.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, those two words being the only ones I can manage. She flings herself into my arms and I hold her while she cries quietly into my shoulder.

"I want to go home," she sobs.

"Tiana, it's okay. It's only the first night here," I say. I'm horrible at comforting people, but I have to do what I can for her.

"That's the problem. It's all been a steady countdown, second by second since I was Reaped yesterday. I get closer and closer to dying, and no matter what I do, I just can't distract myself."

She has a point. We are all ticking down, and knowing that your timer has suddenly jumped close to zero is horrible.

"I'm sorry this had to happen like this. But you know, try to enjoy it as long as you can, okay?" I say. She pulls away from my shoulder and looks at me.

"I'll try."

"Good. Now, you'll need to get some sleep. We'll be training tomorrow," I say, pulling the covers back. She slides under them and I pull them up to her chin.

"Will you sit for a while?" she asks me quietly. I smile at her.

"Of course." I take her hand as she closes her eyes. Poor kid.

After a few minutes, her breathing evens and I stand up and cross over to the door. I step out into the hall, close her door, head back into my room, and lay down.

It's only been the first day. I don't want to know how the rest of them are going to go.


	6. Chapter 6: Training

**_Thanks for sticking with this story! This will be the last "boring" chapter, so enjoy! Don't forget to review!_**

The first thing I hear in the morning is a loud banging at the door. "Alden!" It's Alameda.

"I'm getting up," I call back tiredly to her, standing up and stretching. Today is the first training day.

I walk into the bathroom and find a red and black training uniform hanging on a bar. There's a white 10 on the shoulder and the top of my spine, and a pair of comfortable looking leather boots are on the floor below it. I quickly dress in everything and head out to our District's dining room.

I take a seat in a fancy dining chair next to Tiana and her eyes are full of something...thanks, maybe. I shoot her a reassuring smile as I load food onto my plate.

"Alright, you two. Today you will be spending the day down in the Training Center. Weapons are great and all, but if you really want to survive the Games, you'd better hit the survival stations. Don't forget you'll also have tomorrow for it, so don't rush," Bennett says, looking at the two of us.

I turn to Alameda, who is sitting next to Bennett. "What do you recommend I try?" She takes a sip of coffee.

"Try them all. You never know what you're good at," she says.

"Are your uniforms comfortable?" Svetlana asks us with a smile. I nod.

Bennett pushes away from the table and stands up. "Alright. It's time to head down there. You want to be early, show that you guys are contenders."

I stand up and take one last sip of some colorful juice and follow my mentors and partner to the elevator, where we speed down past the lobby and down to a dim room where Tiana and I are let out. Alameda smiles at us one last time as they continue down, leaving the two of us in the room with lots of other tributes.

Some are staring at us, especially the career tributes from 1 and 2, but I go over and sit down on a bench that lines the cold concrete wall. I'm not here to make friends.

Eventually the door that makes up one wall slides open and we all walk quietly into the great Training Room. The place is impressive. Every weapon imaginable, all kinds of different stations to try out.

A tall, muscular dark skinned woman named Atala stands on a small podium in the middle of the room. We gather around her as she rattles off the rules, like not fighting each other, and the different stations. Some of the Career tributes are getting antsy, and the second Atala dismisses us to begin training, they practically run to the most deadly weapons.

I look around the gym and decide to go over to the fire building station and sit in silence with the girl from 3. Sure, I can start one with matches, but it's nice to learn how to use a stick and stone.

Once I finally figure out how to start a decent one, I head over to edible plants and spend a good hour there.

By the time lunch rolls around, I can fix a safe salad, build a fire, trap a person with a single piece of rope, and purify water in three different ways. I head over to the dining room, where us tributes are expected to eat together. Tiana has found a friend in the young girl from District 9, so I'm alone. I take a seat at the end of the table, not far from the auburn haired girl from District 4. She smiles slightly at me, and I acknowledge her before turning back to my plate.

After lunch, I hit the rest of the survival stations before Atala blows the whistle, signaling the end of day one. Thank God. It's been a long and tiring day. Tomorrow, I think I'll hit the weapons stations and figure out what I'm going to do for my private session with the Game Makers.

I catch the first elevator I can and hit the button labeled with a 10. The dark haired boy from 2 is in the elevator, and he is staring at me like I'm something to eat as we take in a few more tributes and head upwards. Finally, I can't take it anymore.

"Dude. What do you want?" I snap, turning around. His eyes widen.

"Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?" he retorts. I cross my arms as the elevator stops at District 1's floor and the girl steps off.

"I just don't see why you have to stare at me," I say defensively as the doors slide shut.

"Watch your back in that arena with that attitude, you little asshole," he says, when we stop at his floor. I flip him the bird and he stomps off, obviously angry, his district partner behind him.

I don't understand what I did, but this guy has anger management issues. I didn't provoke him, but I already have an enemy in the arena. I'll need to run like hell if I want to avoid him.

After the doors close, the scrawny boy from twelve looks at me. "That was Agrippa, the guy from two," he says, pausing. "It's not just you; he has a problem with everybody. I can't stand him, and you had the guts to do exactly what I want to do," he continues with a wary smile.

I smile weakly, but stand in silence until we reach my floor and I get off. Alameda and Bennett are waiting in the hallway, clutching neon colored drinks.

"How did it go?" Alameda asks me, handing me a glass of water from a table. I accept it and take a big drink.

"Fine, I guess. I did survival today. Weapons tomorrow," I say.

"How were the other tributes? Did we make some allies today?" she continues.

"I only talked to Agrippa, the son of a bitch from 2 because he pissed me off. I'm not here to make friends, Alameda," I say.

She closes her eyes. "Alden, allies are important. Just as important as not having enemies, which it sounds like is the only thing you've done so far. Even Tiana, who we all know isn't going to make it past the first day made an ally on the slim chance the odds are in her favor. I don't care if you don't want to make friends, you need to make allies. You aren't going to get far if you don't," she says, her face inches from mine.

I step away and roll my eyes. "Alden, I am your mentor. I'm supposed to give you advice, and if you actually want to come home, you had better listen to that advice," she hisses, her eyes wild.

"Fine," I say angrily, walking down the hallway to the living room and towards one of those tongueless servants.

"You. Bring me something to eat. I don't care what, just something," I say quickly, and not very nicely, which I instantly regret. She bows slightly and shuffles away.

I sit down onto the couch, and put my head into my hands. It's finally happened. All of that anger that comes with this whole hellish experience has finally caught up to me. I snap under pressure, get easily angry. It's a horrible flaw, but I can't prevent it. I have to let it come before I let it go.

The blond Avox girl comes back with something, I don't know what, on a plate and hands it to me. "Thank you," I mutter. She nods and scurries back to her position. I eat my meal slowly, still fuming from earlier. I hate being insulted. I hate being told what to do. I hate being in the Hunger Games.

I set the plate down on the coffee table and lie down on my back, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. After a few moments, I'm okay again and decide to go find Alameda to apologize to her for being an asshole to her.

She's sitting in an armchair in the elevator vestibule, looking pained. Her legs are crossed, and she has one cheek in her hand. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms.

"Alameda?" She turns in the direction of my voice and stands up.

"Alden."

"I just want to apologize for being an asshole to your earlier," I say carefully.

"It's okay. I'm just trying to help you. I...made some enemies, not friends before my Games, and I almost didn't make it back home." She lifts up the hem of her shirt, revealing a long and very ugly scar up her side.

"I almost bled to death because there were people trying to get me because I pissed them off. Sometimes cocky is good, but not always. I learned the hard way." She pulls her shirt down and crosses her arms.

"I'm not trying to be bossy. Or make you hate my guts. Just don't make anybody else mad. Be nice, okay?"

I nod. She pats me on the shoulder, and brushes past me back into the living area. I walk the opposite way to my bedroom, close the door, and sit on the bed.

Stupid. So stupid. The second I walk in that arena, Agrippa will be after me. I should best be ready.


	7. Chapter 7: Juliet

_**This is the furthest I am in this story, so time between updates will be further apart. I appreciate your understanding and for taking time to read this!**_

The next morning I head down to the Training Center a bit more loose than I was yesterday. The tributes are more spread out over the stations today, and I'm glad. I can work on weapons.

Alameda told me to try out everything, so I decide to hit the spear station first. Seems like a decent place to start. The brutish but pleasant instructor is eager to get started, and after about half an hour with him, I can get a good spear in the chest. Enough to kill a person.

I suddenly realize what my problem is. I don't want to kill anybody. I don't want to lose my humanity. And this, all of this, will make that happen.

I catch a few Game Makers looking at me from their balcony, and I quickly pull myself together. This is all one big show, and I have to play along.

Afterward, I decide to try out hand-to-hand combat, the swords, and learn how to hit somebody spot-on in the jugular or temple with a whip. Turns out the whip is my best weapon so far. Get my hands on that and a knife, and I would be fine, especially since I can wrestle well.

After an uneventful lunch, I go back out and decide to hit up the knife throwing station. The tiny woman who runs it can hit the center of the target every single time, when I can only get a decent stick somewhere on the circular death patch. I thank her, and look around the room, trying to figure out what I should do next. I settle on archery, because there's only one tribute over there.

I cross the room and head to the rack containing bows and arrows of all types. I reach for one, when somebody bumps into my shoulder.

"Sorry," the girl says, looking up at me. I recognize her. She has auburn hair and striking turquoise eyes, which compliment her tan nicely.

I smile slightly at her. "Not a problem." I glance at the bow and quiver in her hand. "You care if I use that?" I ask politely.

She glances down at it and hands it to me. "Go right ahead."

I grin at her. "Thank you."

She returns the smile and takes a deep breath. "I'm Juliet Chase. From District 4," she says.

"Alden Fernandez. District 10." I string an arrow and shoot at the target, missing it by a lot. I sigh.

Juliet smiles slightly and glances at the bow, walking towards me. "Here," she says after a moment. "Relax your arms slightly."

I adjust my arms a bit. "Like this?"

"Perfect." She runs her hand along the bow. "Pull the arrow more towards your chin, and aim just a tiny bit below your target. Arrows always fly higher than your aim."

I breathe out and let the arrow fly. It hits the target almost in the center. I lower the bow and smile. "Wow. Thanks."

She laughs and takes small, graceful steps over to the chalk bowl by the gymnastics mats. She's very small for about sixteen, but very strong. She's from 4, after all. Probably swims like a fish.

She rubs her hands with the bright white chalk and stretches out on the mat. "Try swordsmanship. You have the stature of a skilled swordsman," she says, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm decent at it, but the odds are I'm not going to make it past the bloodbath."

She turns to me. "Don't lose hope. Never lose hope." She turns to the mat, closing her eyes and focusing.

I breathe out loudly. "Well, it's been nice talking to you...I guess I'll go climb some ropes or something."

She turns to me, a light in her eyes. "Try the swords again. You'll be great if you practice." She smiles briefly before launching into a series of quick and graceful flips across the mat, landing on her feet at the other end.

"Geez. That's amazing. I'd end up breaking my neck or something if I tried that," I remark with a most likely stupid smile.

She laughs. "That was just a warm up." She cartwheels back to me. "But thank you."

I cross my arms. "Impressive. Very impressive."

"Thanks."

I smile. "I think I'll try those swords again...I'll figure out how to do something."

She grins and walks over to the weapons rack, picking up a wicked silver sword and balancing it in her hand. "I could help you train, if you like," she says quietly.

"I thought we aren't supposed to help each other." I pick up a sword.

"We aren't," she replies, shrugging. She winks mysteriously at me, and circles the mat, watching me from the other side.

I see. "Well, show me how to do something. The Game Makers and trainers are on break, so we won't get in trouble." She nods and twirls the sword in her hand.

"Show me what you got," she says. I begin to fight her, and am particularly careful not to hit her. That would be bad.

She seems to be holding back, but I don't mind. She can block every one of my moves, though.

"Nice," I remark. "You're good. I bet you could win this thing," I say with a smile.

She smiles ruefully, her cheeks turning pink. "Thank you."

I drop my voice. "I'm serious...everyone thinks I'm going to be great because I'm strong, but I won't get very far, compared to those who actually have talent."

Her gaze softens and she comes over and puts a small hand on my arm. "I believe you will."

I smile at her, truly meaning it. "Thank you. You know, Juliet, you're the nicest person I've met in this thing other than my District partner and mentor." Let's not forget what happened between Agrippa and I yesterday.

She smiles, her eyes full of sadness. "That's because I'm at peace with my coming demise," she says quietly. She hangs our swords back up and I look at her.

"I hate this whole thing. It's awful, isn't it?"

She pushes some hair out of her eyes. "You don't know the half of it."

I sigh slightly. "I have lots of people expecting me to come home, and the odds are that I won't. Just like another 22 of us."

She walks towards me. "Don't think that way. Don't abandon hope."

"I'm just trying to be...realistic. I hate reality."

"As long as there's hope, there's a chance," she responds, her eyes bright.

I don't know why I'm getting sappy, but I feel as if I can bare my soul to her. "I made one promise before I left. To not give up. To not back down and let them have me."

She gets close to me. "Then don't give in." Her voice is a whisper. "Don't let the Capitol have what they want. Give Panem hope."

As usual, I don't have a response. I let the ghost of a smile illuminate my face, and she returns it. "Never lose hope. It's all we have now, seventy two years into this."

I look at her. "Yeah, it is. One day..." I drop my voice. I definitely don't want to be overheard. "One day, this will all end for good. I'm sure of it."

She nods. "I see you're a rebel."

I shrug. "My grandparents were. During the rebellion. They weren't caught, either."

She looks down and touches the silver pendant that hangs from her neck. "My parents were, unfortunately. I was six."

"That's...horrible." It's all I can say. I could never imagine losing my parents. Even if they did die, I would have my brother to watch me until I'm eighteen.

"It is. It really is."

I crack my knuckles. "They're watching us. The Game Makers. Let's try something, shall we?"

She wraps her hands around the bow from earlier. "You realize your words could have meant your life, don't you? Why do you trust me with them?"

I shake my head. "I just trust you. Don't ask me why. You aren't...murderous like the rest of them. You have a soul. A good one at that."

She blushes and smiles, glancing down at her shoes. "Thank you." She strings an arrow and looks at me. "I know neither of us asked for this. You're different." I don't say anything.

"What I meant is that you're a good person." She lets the arrow fly.

"Thank you. I just...don't want to kill anybody. Or hurt anybody. None of us deserve it."

She looks weary, and I glance over at the arrow that hit the bull's eye. "You and I both," she whispers.

I glance at her. "You look like you work alone, but I need an ally."

She pauses, but turns to look at me. "It would be an honor."

"Really?" I'm impressed. I was sure she would turn me down.

"Really." She smiles gently.

I hesitantly take her hand. "I will do anything to protect me once we're in there."

She blushes. "Likewise."

"I guess it's in my nature."

She laughs. "Heroism is in your nature?"

I shake my head. "Protecting people is. I'm no hero."

She smiles again. "I have a feeling that you're more than you think you are, Alden."

I sigh as the whistle blows, signaling the end of the day. "I wish we could talk more before the arena. It's in two days, you know."

She bites her lip and leans towards me, her lips near my ear. "Meet me tonight at eight o'clock in front of the Training Center. Outside."

I nod and she twirls around, running off at an unnatural speed.

I can't wait for eight.


End file.
